


a cruel world on your own

by haipollai



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3821728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe it’s a crappy hawk,” Brent had said early on when they were on his couch playing video games during an off day. “Like you’re mated to the team or some shit.”</p>
<p>Jonny rolls his eyes. “And it’s gonna break my heart?”</p>
<p>Brent just laughs, because he’s an asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a cruel world on your own

Markings started out as red lines, slowly darkening as someone got older, before becoming what they would be, and what they would remain, for the rest of their lives. Some were intricate, swirling lines and elaborate pieces to represent whoever you were bound to find, whoever would be your soulmate. 

Jonny tried not to think much about his, ever since the lines darkened to black when he was almost seventeen. His mother tutted about it. The image had an ominous flair. The bird, a crow or raven of some kind, with a broken heart in it’s beak. 

“Your soulmate should never be the one to hurt you,” she sighed when she saw it, touching the heart sadly.

It stretched up his thigh, just reaching up to his side but mostly hidden by boxers or briefs.

“Maybe it’s a crappy hawk,” Brent had said early on when they were on his couch playing video games during an off day. “Like you’re mated to the team or some shit.”

Jonny rolls his eyes. “And it’s gonna break my heart?”

Brent just laughs, because he’s an asshole.

He sleeps with Kaner the first time that year, and the second and the third time. Kaner has a C on his skin right where the C would be if he had it on his sweater. Pat makes a face whenever anyone makes jokes about him blowing his captain.

“It’s so vague you know?” he says, his fingers trailing over Jonny’s chest. They need to shower, the room still smells of sex and Brent’s going to be pissed at him if they ruin the sheets. “Just having a fucking C. If it’s even a C.”

“What else could it be?”

It’s stylized, loops and swirls that would never be part of an actual letter, but the shape is there. Kaner frowns though, eyes drifting to Jonny’s mark. “You ever wonder if the marks could be wrong?”

Jonny doesn’t know what to say, because he has, because otherwise his makes no sense unless his soulmate is set to die. Mates aren’t supposed to break your heart. Patrick moves back up, and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“We’re good, until we both find whatever the fuck we’re supposed to find.”

“Better than good.” He runs his fingers through Kaner’s curls. From everything he’s heard and read, he always thought this is what being with someone, with his soulmate, is supposed to feel like. They argue on the ice. They argue and bitch and push but he just knows they’ll always fix their shit. 

He knows that and he trusts that, and it just feels like the truth. He wishes his own tattoo was easier to understand. When he’s given the ‘C’ and Pat is looking at him as if it’s significant, as if this is it and Jonny wants it to be. It doesn’t seem fair to Patrick though.

“What if I’m not?” He’s had enough to drink he’s not worried about saying it out loud. He’s sprawled over his couch, his head in Pat’s lap. It feels okay, like he’s supposed to be here, just like this. He tries not to think about the bird on his side, this heavy shadow that he’s missing something.

“Not what?”

“Not your C. What if it’s a Chris or what if you get traded or-”

“You’re fucking melancholy tonight.” He pokes at Jonny’s cheek until he has to look up at him to get him to stop. Once Jon is focused, he rests his fingers on lines on Jonny’s skin, knowing where they are even with his shirt and jeans on. “I break your heart all the time, asshole.” He laughs to himself and leans down to kiss him. “I like that. What if I did that? I’ll be your heartbreaker.”

“Fuck you.” It feels too easy but he wants it too badly, he wants this to be okay.

“Nah man, once you get your big ass off me, I’m bending you over the bed.”

“That the plan for tonight?” He pushes thoughts of soulmates away and gets off the couch to lead Pat to the bedroom. 

They do their best to keep things quiet in the locker room. Most of the guys don’t care but Jonathan feels weird making it a thing. He doesn’t want to talk about what he and Patrick have because if he looks too closely, if he scratches at it, it’s not enough. If it’s not enough, that means Patrick has to be wrong about the heart, it has to be something else. He doesn’t want to think about what that could be. 

Especially when new guys come in and he has to step up to make them feel welcome. Pat’s better at it, but it’s part of being captain. He has to, so he does.

They’ve met before, Crawford’s been up and down a handful of times. He’s quiet and focused, talking more with the other Rockford guys at first. Jonny tries to just be welcoming, not sure what it must feel like to be constantly up and down, knowing nothing was for sure. He’s not going to force himself in and try and act like he could understand or relate. 

So he’s adamantly not listening when Bickell calls him Crow.

But Kaner is. 

“It’s him.” He doesn’t wait very long. It’s still preseason and they’re in Duncan’s house. He at least gets Jon away from everyone else, pinning him to the wall of a guest room. His hand curls around Jonny’s hip, over his mark and Jonny doesn’t think twice about resting his hand over Patrick’s. It’s sappy but he can’t help but like that it’s over Patrick’s heart as well. 

“Kaner-”

“No. It is. It’s going to be.”

“You don’t know that,” he says. He curls an arm over Patrick’s shoulders and pulls him close so they’re pressed flush together. “Maybe I don’t care. Maybe this is best for me.”

“Soulmate,” Pat mumbles into his neck but he doesn’t try to pull away.

“You’ve got my C on your chest.”

Pat sucks in a breath. The longer they’ve been doing this thing, sleeping together and sharing feelings and filling their space with each other, the less doubt Jonny has about Kaner’s mark. That C means him and Jonny knows it, feels it. “You said once, I think you were really drunk, and you thought something was missing.” He says it in a rush, getting the words out all at once as if he stopped he couldn’t start again.

Jonny stares at the far wall. He doesn’t know what to say to make that better. The feeling is still there. Ignorable most of the time, Pat’s a lot and usually it’s enough. 

He doesn’t get how Corey is supposed to be it though. He opens up as the season goes on. The more Jonny pays attention though, the more he notices that he’s never seen Corey’s mark, has no idea what he’s looking for.

It’s a bad game for Corey, he’s taken off for Emery and after the game, Jonny grabs him before he can disappear for the night. His lips are pressed in a thin line, carefully trying to school his expression into something close to neutral. “You’ll get through this.”

Corey blinks. “Thanks.” 

On the plane to another game, Jonny ends up in the aisle seat across from Corey. Most of the team is asleep, including Kaner, with his head on Jon’s shoulder. They talk in whispers so they don’t wake anyone up, and it feels close, and intimate. Corey smiles easily and Jonny wants. It takes him by surprise.

Corey ends up moving over, sitting on the armrest of Jonny’s seat to play him a song. It makes sense to curl his arm around Corey’s waist to help keep him balanced and of course Corey’s going to lean on him so he doesn’t pull the headphones out. It makes sense but he's still caught off guard by how close they are.

Jonny sucks in a breath, the music is something in French, something a friend of Corey’s had sent him but he’s barely listening to it. The beat seems to echo the way his pulse speeds up and the steady rise and fall of Corey’s breaths.

Patrick is emotion, he comes in and draws Jonny out, and lights up the whole damn world.

Corey feels steady, solid. Like no matter what Jonny does, he knows Corey will have his back. For a second he can’t breathe with how much he wants both of them. 

He glances up and Corey is looking at him but he quickly turns away as soon as their eyes meet.

“Hey…”

“Gonna try to rest.” He pulls away, too far for Jonny to reach and next to him Patrick shifts and he’s not sure what to do. It’s easier to do nothing.

-

Corey doesn’t mean to walk in on them. He’d been looking for his jacket and there they were in Seabs’ guest room. The whole get together was an end-of-season, don’t leave town angry event. Corey hadn’t been there long but he was already ready to duck out. It hurt, remembering each puck that went past him, how he should have been better, reacted faster. He’ll put it out of his mind later, but right now he still wants to wallow and head back to Montreal to review game tape.

It looks intense, Pat’s legs tight around Jonny’s hips, his hands pulling on his hair. Each thrust is sharp and exact. From Corey’s angle he can see the red lines of scratch marks left on Tazer’s shoulders from Kaner’s nails.

He can also see the black lines curling up Jonny’s thigh, and realizes he’s never seen it entirely before. The angle of the bird’s head puts the heart in its beak up onto his hip, visible in the locker room and everyone knows it’s Kaner and his heartbreaker celly. No one’s mentioned the bird - the crow - holding it.

Corey quickly backpedals, tries not to think of his own mark, of leaning into Jonny and feeling like he could be good there.

He makes his way back to the kitchen, grabbing a beer until he can breathe normally. A few of the guys trickle in and out, but seem to content to brush off whatever expression is on his face as a goalie thing. Kaner finds him there and, from the look on his face, he knows Corey walked in on them. Jonny must have gone straight out though because it’s just them, Kaner standing close enough their arms touch.

“I know. It’s you.”

“So? It’s you too.” And Corey knows what could have been doesn’t matter, he would never be a choice next to Kaner. 

“What’s yours?” Patrick asks. It’s a rude question normally and Corey’s done what he can to hide his mark, it’s not out of shame, or not entirely but it feels strange to have in the locker room. This is different though, so he pulls down the collar of his shirt, exposing the stylized C on his chest. He hates it, hates that it hovers over him in every locker room he’s been in since he was fourteen and it darkened enough to make out.

“It looks sorta like mine,” Patrick says, leaning in and touching an odd loop at the bottom. “That’s different. Looks like a heart.”

“Yea, it’s cheesy as fuck.” He lets go of his shirt to cover it back up but Patrick grabs the fabric to keep looking.

“Would you come over?”

“What?”

Patrick looks up at him, all big blue eyes and messy mullet. It’s not his best look but maybe it’s his smile that makes Corey think about leaning in. For a little bit Corey stops thinking about the loss. “I’m shit at sharing, but he needs more than me. And we’re both there. Come over.”

“Just like that,” Corey says flatly. This feels like a set up.

“Yea.”

“We don’t even know if it’s me.” Corey’s been trained to internalize, follow his instincts, trust his reactions but this is overwhelming. "You're good with him."

“Come on, man, you really think that?” He lets go of Corey’s shirt and smoothes the fabric back over his chest. “Gonna go drag Jonny home to shave that wreck on his face. Come. Over.” He doesn’t wait for a response and Corey isn’t sure he could get his throat working enough to give him one. He thinks he would protest, but a few hours later, he’s outside Kaner's door.

He thinks of plane ticket, and the packed suitcase ready for tomorrow. This is just one last thing, one last chore and then he's free for the summer. The Habs are put so he won't even be surrounded by those reminders. 

"You came." Kaner says as he opens the door. "Jonny had to go do some interview, come in." Just because Jon isn't there though doesn't erase the weight of him. There's two open beers on the counter, a note in his scratchy writing on the fridge, a hat hanging from a chair. Little pieces of how intertwined they are. 

"So?" Corey says, not sure what Kaner wants from him.

"So? Dude. We need to figure this out." He digs around in the fridge and thumps down another beer in front of him and clears away Jonny's leftovers. 

Corey smiles tightly, he can't deny he wants. He's never met anyone who didn't want to meet their soulmate. But he won't be the one to fuck with Jon and Pat, everyone knows they're good together. Better than good. "You two have each other. You don't have to worry about me trying to stake a claim."

Patrick makes an aggravated noise and pushes forward, catching Corey before he can get away. His mouth presses against Corey's, his lips dry and chapped. His mind is racing but his body seems to settle on kissing back, sucking on Patrick's lower lip, leaving it wet and red when they separate. "I don't think this is meant to be an either or kinda thing," he whispers, his voice rough.

Corey wants to lean in and kiss him again. "Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck." He says louder and takes a quick step back, needing space. "What the fuck, Kane?"

"I'm not an idiot!”

The vehemence in his voice shocks Corey back another step. “I never…”

“I see it ok? The way he looks at you and how you two lean into each other and all that crap.” He takes a deep breath and for a moment the silence hangs heavily between them. “Sorry.”

Corey sinks into one of his chairs and takes a long pull from the beer. “You know I’d never...I’d never fu- sleep with him. I wouldn’t ever make a move, you don’t have to worry.”

“Fuck, Crow no that’s- I trust you man.” He smiles, his lips still red from the kiss. “I wouldn’t even consider this otherwise.” He gathers his nerve before Corey can and takes the few steps forward to close the distance between them. When Corey doesn’t move, he touches his knuckles his his cheek. “Kissing you felt like kissing Jon.”

His fingers touch Corey’s lips and it’s too much. “I have to-” He gets quickly to his feet but he doesn’t miss the disappointment in Patrick’s eyes. “I have a flight.” 

“Right. Back home.”

Corey shrugs. Home is relative. He’s not sure he’s spent enough time at his parents for it to be home. Not that time makes a place home either, he spends plenty of time here in Chicago but he’s not sure he would call it home either. Maybe it’s the constant lingering doubts, waiting to be sent back to Rockford. 

“I’ll think about it,” he says. He takes a risk and leans in to press his mouth to Pat’s. He tastes like beer and lingering traces of lip balm.

Patrick’s fingers drift down to his neck, curling around his jaw. “Yea?” He murmurs.

“Yea.”

“We’ll have to talk to Jonny.”

Pat nods seriously and he’s so close his curls brush over Corey’s cheek. “You go and think or whatever. Make sure you’re okay. Don’t pick up any cute French-Canadians while you’re up there.”

Corey leaves not sure if he feels any better about this but he can feel Patrick’s lips against his and he can see the bird stretching over Jonny’s thigh and both feelings stay with him through the summer. He gets texts from all the guys over the summer but the ones from Pat stand out.

_He thinks the whole idea is nuts_

_He’s not angry about the kissing, you wanna hear how he fucked me harder_

_Meant it about the french canadian boys_

Corey sends him a picture with his arm around some guy’s shoulders. He’s just a fan, but Pat doesn’t need to know that and Corey can’t deny the attention feels good. The feeling of being wanted.

The picture makes Pat actually call. “You’re an asshole.”

Corey laughs despite himself. “He was from Toronto, doesn’t count against your ban.”

“What the- fuck you.” But he doesn’t sound upset. “You didn’t even sleep with you did you.”  
“Nah. Not my type.” He’s at home and stretches out on his bed. The room hasn’t changed much. Little things come and go, things he no longer needs, things he leaves behind each trip. 

“Oh? You have a...one second.” Corey can hear things being shuffled around and there’s a second voice in the background. Patrick’s comes through louder, telling them to go away. “Family. Have you talked to Jonny yet?” Pat says when he returns to the call.

“No.” 

“You should,” and that’s it. Patrick switches the conversation back to teasing and Corey lets him. 

He’s caught off guard when he gets the text from Jonny.

_I’m in Montreal._

He doesn’t think twice about finding and meeting up with him, until he’s right there at the coffee shop Jon’s chosen and it hits him hard that he’s kissed Jon’s _boyfriend_ , the guy he’s marked for, and Jonny knows that. His job involves throwing himself in the line of fire, he’s not going to back down.

Jonny smiles when he sees him.

“Got bored.” He says when Corey asks why the hell he’s there. 

“What? Water skiing and camping and fuck knows what else you do up at your lake not enough?” Corey relaxes, this will be okay. Jon has his sunglasses up on top of his head so Corey can see the way his eyes crinkle when he’s trying to hide a smile.

“Maybe I wanted some good company.” He leans forward, his hands curling around his coffee, putting him in reach of Corey. All Corey has to do is stretch out his fingers and there he would be. “Maybe I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’ll be ready for the season.”

Jonny rolls his eyes. “I wasn’t asking about that. I trust you for that.” He suddenly leans closer so there’s now here to look but him. “I trust you. As my goalie. Got it?” He’s immediately leaning back, his lips pulling up into a smile. “Kaner’s a good kisser, isn’t he?”

He chokes on his coffee, which only makes Jonny laugh as if he told the best joke. Corey kicks him under the table which only makes him laugh harder. “Asshole.”

“Come on, tell me.” He’s leaning forward again, still smiling. Corey isn’t sure he can put everything into words, so he leans in against all his better judgment and kisses him. It’s not like kissing Pat, he doesn’t get overwhelmed, it stays chaste. When it ends, he doesn’t pull away, but then neither does Jonny. Anyone could recognize them, but he stays there with his nose against Jonny’s cheek.

“I don’t want to fuck you two up,” he whispers. This is his captain, and even like this it leads to trust, making it safe to say what he’s feeling. Or maybe that’s the soulmates part. His mom would always say things, about trust and love and how deep the bond is.

“There’s a crow on my leg, I think we’re supposed to make this work.” Jon pulls back first but at some point his hand covered Corey’s and it doesn’t pull away. “Come back early, before the convention. I already talked Kaner into it.”

There’s nothing Corey can say to that. He’s almost grateful for the invite, for a chance to get away from his mother’s long sad looks, his dad’s attempts at distraction. Now that he has a date and something to look forward to the summer crawls. The last season is behind him and he finally feels like he can focus on the next one.

When he gets back to Chicago, he spends only a few moments at his place before deciding to just suck it up and head to Jonny’s. He shifts uncomfortably until Jon opens the door.

“You don’t call me Crow,” Corey says, not sure where the question came from. Why he feels like putting it out there right now when things seem to be clicking.

“I’ve got my mark and some guy shows up whose nickname is Crow?” He hovers by his elbow, looking like he wants to reach out but isn’t sure. “Seemed like too much.”

“Stop standing awkwardly over there,” Kaner yells. He’s on Jonny’s couch, trimmed and clean, his shirt riding up over his stomach. He sits up when he sees Corey and holds out a hand. “Let me see something.” He catches Corey’s wrist and pulls him down before he can react. His lips are soft and dry and it’s surprisingly easy to give in and kiss back, like they’re back in his kitchen and Corey’s falling. Kaner doesn’t let him settle into a rhythm, keeps him focused like he’s in the crease and waiting. “So thinking?”

“Uh oh,” Jonny says.

“Don’t be an ass.”

Corey rolls his eyes and cuts off the bickering before it can start by kissing Patrick again. He finally looks over at Jonny, taking in the way he worries his lower lip, watching them both with a mix of fear and want. Talking about all this separately was one thing but all of them here in his apartment, the reality of it is different. Carefully, knowing he has both of them focused on him, he strips out of his shirt and lets Jonny see. It feels open and exposed especially when Jon takes the step forward to touch. The light scratch of his nail on Corey’s skin makes him shiver.

“Yours has a heart,” he says, his finger lingering on that extra little curl. Corey feels his cheeks heat up but before he can try and excuse it since it’s not like he knows he’s in love, Jonny puts Corey’s hand on his hip. “I’ve got one for Kaner.”

“That seems a reach.” 

Jonny shrugs but it seems to satisfy something for him because he’s leaning in and kissing him. Corey kisses back, licking into Jonny’s mouth, feeling like he’s found something. 

When they pull apart, Kaner is watching them, eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to figure something out. There’s a hickey on his neck from earlier and Corey’s seen the C he has. Very lightly he touches Pat’s lips, not planning anything but Patrick’s tongue darts out, curling around the tips of his fingers. 

-

Management doesn’t know what to make of the three of them at first. There’s not much precedent for people having two marks, let alone choosing both of those marks. Pat keeps on expecting someone to put their foot down, Stan or Q or someone with lots of money invested. Stan asks him if he’s sure, pulling him aside to ask quietly away from Jon and Corey.

He taps at the mark on his skin, hidden under his shirt. “I don’t think it’s that much of a choice,” he finally says. And it’s not, it’s the three of them and Pat can’t imagine cutting any of them out.

The season goes quickly, and it ends sooner than any of them want. Everything is a whirlwind and Pat crashes when he’s away from them. When he comes up for air, he’s in Switzerland and everything is still off but he has hockey again and it gives him something to take him out of his head. 

“I fucked up.”

Corey smiles softly. It’s early enough for him he’s still half asleep and is probably only sitting up so he can sip his coffee. Pat recognizes his bedroom in Chicago and the stretched out shirt that falls off his shoulder and shows off the edge of his mark. “We know.”

“Is Jonny…”

“Getting coffee. I’d yell at him to hurry up but…” He shrugs.

“I miss you.”

Corey hides his smile in his coffee but Pat knows him well enough to see it even through the Skype connection. “I miss you too,” he says when he looks back up. “Lots of guys not here. Not the same.” 

There are romance stories about soulmates being able to sense each others emotions at all times, Pat’s found it only happens when he’s touching them and even then it’s iffy, not much more than impressions. He wishes it was that deep intense connection right now. It seems silly, compared to everything else, but he wants to feel needed. 

“You’ll be back before you know it,” Corey says, reading something on his face, which is good enough. “Back with us. Jon can berate you and kiss it better or whatever you weirdos do. And it’ll be ok Pat.”

He bites his lip. “I’d expect a speech like that from Jonny.”

“I guess he’s rubbed off on me,” Corey says. 

Patrick snorts and considers biting back the obvious, but gives in. “Literally. All the time.” Corey makes a face and a second later Jonny appears in frame. His hair is a rat’s nest but he beams when he sees Pat. 

“You get equal treatment too.”

Patrick smiles and settles in more comfortably. “So do I get a show with this call?” It’s almost as effective at waking Jon up as coffee. He doesn’t look away from Pat as he drags his mouth along Corey’s jaw. Corey’s coffee disappears and with his hands free, he pulls Jon’s head back by his hair. Pat has to bite back a groan, not wanting to interrupt them yet. If he can’t be back yet, he’ll take this. 

Jonny promises he’ll get Patrick home soon. He’ll get him back to Chicago and back to them. Patrick’s good at trusting him.

Until then he has hockey, even if he has to stumble his way through the German. He doesn’t regret losing the time with Jonny and Crow. He doesn’t regret that if he gets this here on the ice. Even if sometimes he looks over, looking for Jonny and it’s Segs instead. He digs his fingers into the mark, not caring if he leaves behind bruises, it’s his reminder that they’re there. They’ll always be there. 

Sometimes he sees Segs watching him, when they’re getting drunk together and Patrick’s hands can’t seem to avoid touching his chest like picking at a scab. Patrick hasn’t been able to tell what if anything on his arm is his mark and he hasn’t seen anything anywhere else.

“Must be good,” Tyler says. It’s after a loss and a bad night and neither want to go out and deal with other people. It’s enough to have one other person who understands. “Having that.” He taps on his own chest, mirroring where Patrick’s mark is so there can be no mistake.

“It is.” He doesn’t ask about Tyler’s, what he’s looking for. Maybe there’s nothing, maybe he’s hiding empty skin from everyone with his tattoos. He’s sure if he had nothing and no one like Jonny or Corey, he’d go nuts. The constant lingering fear they’ll be fine without him already sets him on edge and it doesn’t ease until finally Jon’s number is on his phone, telling him it’s done. Only moments before others, Sharpy and Duncs and Brent, and the whole team messaging, cheering. Corey gets in a text right before Patrick boards his plane and it seems fitting everything is bracketed by the two of them.

Mentally he scolds himself for finding superstitious ritual in little things. He clings to it though, the entire flight back to Chicago until he’s finally fucking _home_.

It’s warm in Jonny’s bed, Patrick’s sandwiched between Jon and Corey. He very lightly kisses Corey’s cheek and reaches back to curl one hand possessively over Jonny’s hip. He doesn’t regret heading to Europe during the lockout but he missed this, missed getting them both so close. 

“It’s not even five in the morning,” Corey mumbles, a much lighter sleeper than Jonny. He throws a leg over both of them, pinning Patrick where he is.

“Time zones,” Patrick says, burying his smile in Corey’s hair. “Sorry.” He only gets a grunt in reply and he can feel Corey’s breathing even out again. 

Pat dozes for a few more hours before he can’t stand lying there anymore and nudges at Corey until he lets Patrick out. It isn’t much longer before Corey seems to give up on sleep and follow him out, sitting on the counter while Patrick gets coffee going for them both.

“How was it? Without me?” He goes for cheery and curious and misses by a mile.

Corey frowns at him. It’s not like Jonny where his entire mouth just falls, Corey’s brow scrunches up making him look more concerned than anything. “Jonny was in New York for most of it.”

Pat rolls his eyes. “So? You never went to see him?”

“A few times.” He gives Patrick a small smile and sets aside his coffee to reach for him. It lets Pat release a weight he didn’t realize he was holding onto, a simple reminder that he’s wanted here. He wonders if this is what Corey felt at the beginning with Pat and Jon’s history, as if he could be set aside. Useful but not necessary. Pat fits easily between his thighs, leaning forward for a kiss. “It’s different without you.”

“Good?”

“No, different.” He kisses him, chasing the taste of coffee through his mouth. “Better with you.” Corey’s brow is scrunching up again, thinking about something so Patrick pushes himself up to press a kiss to it.

“I missed you both.” He dips his head to bite at Corey’s neck, feeling his pulse pick up. His head drops back, letting Pat do what he wants.

“Fuck,” Jonny says from the door. Both Corey and Pat ignore him, Patrick wanting to touch too badly to care if Jonny’s pissed about his counter. It’s always overwhelming how easy Corey just lets them touch and take. There’s an underlying surety that Patrick loves. He’s seen Corey after bad games, ground down by bad bounces and bad plays and bad media and he’s seen him come back the next game as if none of that had happened.

It’s more of a turn on than he expected it to be. Getting away and getting out was good but he missed it from both Corey and Jon, something stable he could rely on. 

“Why didn’t you just stay in bed?” Jonny grumbles from closer. Pat can feel Corey shift and he glances up to see Jonny lean over to kiss him and then tugs on Patrick’s hair to pull him up next, Corey between them. 

“Wanted coffee.”

“Change of scenery.” They each say at the same time. Jon makes a face but goes over to help himself to the coffee pot. Patrick takes that as permission to go back to kissing Corey. 

“Oh,” Patrick pulls back. “Segs noticed something, I wanted to show you in person.” Corey looks less than enthused but Patrick’s already pulling up his shirt. “It’s here.” It’s almost lost in the curls of his mark but its there, just a few simple lines, the print of a crow’s foot.

“Oh,” Corey slides off the counter, his fingers trace the lines. It’s not a surprise really, that somewhere in Pat’s mark was something for Corey. Jonny’s watching them, a warm smile on his lips. He says something in French that makes Corey’s cheeks turn pink. “I’m not translating that.” 

“Back to bed, we can show him,” Jonny suggests. Corey sucks slowly on his lower lip, slowly dragging his eyes over Patrick’s body which isn’t fair and he knows it. Patrick sighs in exaggerated exasperation but lets Jonny pull him close, tilts his head back when Jonny lightly bites down on his shoulder. “Come on, I want you both in bed.”

“I guess, since you ask so nice,” Patrick drawls, leaning back into him. Jon’s leaving a series of bites over his neck and there’s going to be no denying what any of the bruises are tomorrow but he doesn’t care. 

He fits here between them, reaching out and pulling Corey in with them. His mouth is hot on Patrick’s.

“Bed,” Jonny’s voice is barely above a whine and Corey laughs against Patrick’s mouth. Unfortunately, Corey actually listens to him and pulls away, and Jon’s nudging Patrick from behind, as if he really has to be convinced to join them.


End file.
